Death and Rebirth: The End of Harry Potter
by Nadesiko04
Summary: Love's power resides in the questions we must face. My own version of the End and Epilogue of Harry Potter.


_Way to happy for me. Take it as my own Evangelion-like version of the epilogue._

* * *

"He's… nothing but a child. A child in pain" Harry said, looking at his former Headmaster with unshed tears in his eyes.

"Voldemort's committed many crimes, and now it's his time to pay" the old man sighed, having lost the infamous twinkle in his blue eyes long ago.

"But who are we to judge him?" Asked the seventeen-year-old. He looked at the whimpering child, and saw nothing but his four-year-old self. He may have not been as... _deadtorturedpainbeatenstarvedcrying_ as the poor soul in front of him; but he had cried the same way many nights in his childhood. He'd waited, as this poor child seemed to wait now, for someone to come and help him. He'd waited for his parents to come and love him.

"You said that the power the Dark Lord knows not is love… but you misunderstood it all, Headmaster."

Albus Dumbledore knew what Harry was trying to do.

"The likes of him can never love, Harry. He is the child of chaos; nothing good can come from him."

"The child of chaos?" Harry repeated, "Then you are all responsible. We all are. Because we couldn't show him what love is, he placed the guilt on us. And he was right. We are the true chaos; we let _him_ happen."

Harry placed a hand on Voldemort's soul; he was surprised when, instead of staining his hands with dirty red blood, he felt the skin under him cold and soft.

"Maybe I was destined to show him love, and to show you your crimes."

"Do you know what will happen if you do save him, Harry? What will happen to your friends?"

"No. It doesn't matter. I trust my heart."

Dumbledore looked at him with disappointment. Harry smiled sadly and felt a bit of satisfaction; maybe this was the first true decision he'd ever taken by himself in his life.

"Goodbye, Headmaster" he said softly, and picked up the pathetic soul. He closed his eyes, and felt a blinding light wash over them.

Then… silence.

And screams.

"Master! Master! What happened?"

"Master!"

Harry winced, trying to cover his ears to protect them from the loud noises. He felt hot and cold at the same time and couldn't help but wonder if that was what death really felt like. He dared open one eye, and saw masses of black robes billowing around somewhere in front of him.

Voldemort.

He got up, and heard someone call his name; but he had one thing in mind.

_Poor little child_.

For a moment, he thought about running away as no one seemed to notice him, but quickly discarded that idea. He'd made a decision. He quickly walked up to the Death Eaters (who were screaming and running frantically, clearly at loss about what to do) and without thinking, he waved a hand. The black figures instantly parted; he walked through the little passage his magic had created without spending so much as a glance at the shocked faces of the Death Eaters.

He gasped at the sight in front of him.

"Tom Riddle" he said, it was almost a sigh.

The figure, a handsome man in his thirties with brown-almost-black hair and pale skin, looked at him. His eyes were not the same devilish red as before; now they were brown, almost like the wand that lay forgotten at his side. He was sitting awkwardly on the grass, his black robes no longer fitting him and laying spread around his slim body.

"You" he said. His voice was no longer that unnatural mix of serpent hisses and high-pitched tones, but raspy and somewhat husky, like he had not used it in a long time.

"What did you do to me?" he asked, and Harry felt Riddle's eyes pierce through his soul. It did not matter; he wasn't afraid. Not anymore. He smiled.

"I loved you." Harry answered. He felt the incredulous gasps at his back, but paid them no mind. Voldemort looked shocked, and for that, the seventeen-year-old was surprised. In another circumstances, the man would have laughed.

"…why?"

It was a broken whisper, almost non-existent. But it was there, the forbidden question that Tom Riddle had always refused to answer, to even ask.

So, so powerful. That was the true power of love.

He asked; he reconsidered. He was no longer Voldemort.

Harry's smile widened and he knelt in front of Riddle.

"I thought you ought to know" he encircled his arms around the man, and forgave him. Death was no one's blame, but the result of a series of actions and consequences in which all humans took part in. Merope was a witch; Tom Riddle was under an enchantment. They knew obsession and passion, but not love. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a bright child, and books didn't teach how to love. Dumbledore was a wise man, but he never taught how to love. Harry was proud to say that he had learnt without help, and now was proud to say he'd learnt to forgive.

He felt the little whimpering child cry again, but this time the tears were of happiness. He was encircled around strong arms, and felt protected, warm.

"Shh, let's go home." Harry said, and felt the man nod. Some screams were heard, but they were so far away…

"Harry! Harry! Come here!"

"Ron, send a Patronus to McGonagall to tell her we caught the Death Eaters!"

"Harry, don't! He's-!"

"_Incarcero! _Nagini is dead, Hermione!"

"Harry!"

"We've won! We've won!"

Harry tightened his hold on Riddle, and Aparated away from the forest.

* * *

_Was I right?_

"_Thank you, Harry."_

_Are you happy? Am I happy?_

"_This is love."_

_What is going to happen now?_

"_Life. We've seen death countless times, and even you have seen it at your own hands. We felt Death. Now we must realize what it means to live."_

…_and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…_

"_We've both died."_

_I died._

"_You died."_

_You died._

"_You saved me."_

_He died._

"_You killed him."_

_Dumbledore killed me._

"_I killed you."_

_Why?_

"_Find the purpose on the smile you wear when you wake up, the long chess games we play, the waves washing the sand as they try to reach the land."_

_We were trying to reach each other._

"_We were trying to reach love through pain."_

_I wanted to revenge my parents. I knew they'd love me if I did that. _

"_I wanted to revenge myself."_

_You mistook power with love._

"_I wanted to fill the emptiness."_

_We all did._

"I think we succeeded."

Yes. We all did.

* * *

**Nineteen Years Later**

Ron smiled at his daughter.

"I have to go now daddy, the train is almost leaving."

"Ron, please let her go. You've hugged her for the last ten minutes."

"Why can't I have a hug?" a little boy said, tugging at his mother's skirt. Hermione picked him up and kissed him on the cheek. "Rose isn't going to be home this year and you know that, honey."

"Yeah, I have to make up for all the hugs I'll miss" Ron said, and released the beautiful red-head. Rose blew a kiss at her mum and brother, and got inside the train.

"Isn't fair," the boy said, "she goes to Hogwarts. I have to wait."

"Come on, Harry, don't be silly. You don't want to be at home with your mummy?" Hermione ruffled her son's brown hair.

"Yeah, kiddo. Enjoy this freedom, because at Hogwarts it'll not last."

"Ron!"

"What? It _is_ true."

Little Harry snickered, and the train started to move. Rose waved at them, and they waved back. His mother had released him and he run along with the train until it was no longer seen. He stood at the end of the platform, panting and trying to catch his breath.

"Here," a voice said. Little Harry looked up and saw a black-haired man kneeling in front of him, smiling. He was offering him a bottle of water, a _muggle _bottle of water.

"Mummy and daddy said I couldn't accept things from strangers."

"It's okay, I won't tell."

Little Harry smiled; after all, this man didn't seem dangerous. He drank a bit and gave the bottle back to the man.

"Thank you. Who are you?"

The stranger's bright green eyes seemed to sparkle, and he got up, ruffling little Harry's hair.

"A happy man."

"Say hello to your mother and father for me, Harry."

The man left, and the boy saw that another dark-haired tall man was waiting for him. A few families walked in front of them, and both disappeared.

Little Harry realized he had a note in his pocket.

The only words written were:

_Thank you._


End file.
